Good Morning
by murdur
Summary: Loki helps Sif wake up slowly. Loki/Sif Modern AU. Written for Porn Battle XV - Mild sexual content.


Written for Porn Battle XV on LJ/DW. Prompts: in another life, wed, grind, soft

This turned out about 10x less porny and 10x more sappy than I meant.

* * *

Loki blinked the sleep from his eyes, enjoying waking up slowly, without any blaring alarms signaling an impending appearance in the courtroom or Sif's phone ringing with some police emergency.

_Sif._

He rolled from his back towards her, where she was still sleeping away flopped on her stomach with her face pushed into her pillow and the dark mass of her hair obscuring part of her face. One arm was stretched towards him and Loki reached across the soft white of their sheets to take her hand. With a gentle touch, careful not to rouse, he lifted her hand and turned it slowly from side to side. He watched spellbound at the way the Marquise ruby set between two small rectangular diamonds caught the light, flashing and glinting in the early Sunday morning sun creeping in from behind the blinds.

He could not deny that part of him felt insanely pleased that she would wear the wedding ring. It thrilled him that she'd allow herself to be claimed, had claimed him, and this ring was a public statement that she was his and he was hers. Each other's and one.

Loki didn't care that she'd kept her name, that they'd practically eloped, that she sprawled in her sleep and left him with only a sliver of their bed.

His vanity was soothed by this, pleased by this one small token that she'd indulged him (even if it was _much_ smaller than all the jewels and diamonds he wished to give her, but still more than the plain silver band she'd suggested). He liked the symbolism of it. Feeling the warmed metal of his own elegant band with his thumb, he pondered how he, bitter, isolated Loki, had ended up content to lie in his marriage bed with this woman. It was a curious thing, something he'd never expected nor thought that he'd wanted. Yet, nearly every aspect of his relationship with Sif had been unpredictable and somewhat alarming.

"Hmm?" Her warm fingers curled around his hand. She rubbed her face against her pillow and he tugged her hand to his face, pressing his lips to her fingers. Sif twined her fingers with his and let Loki pull her towards him. Rolling him onto his back, she lazily pulled herself across him, sprawling on top of his lean body. Her thigh brushed against his morning erection and he huffed into her hair before lifting her face for a soft kiss. Sif's eyes were still screwed shut stubbornly against the soft light of the morning.

"Good morning," he chuckled.

"Nnnn," Sif whined, dropping her head to tuck her face against his neck. "Not yet."

He shivered at the tickle of her dark hair against his throat, her breath warm against his skin, and gave a laugh that vibrated through his chest pressed against her own.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes but smiled. "Let me know when."

He began to rub his hands along her back, sliding against the soft fabric of her worn long-sleeved shirt. Sif groaned against his neck. It turned into a soft laugh as she brushed her thigh against his morning wood again and made him gasp. And then she did it once more.

"Even in your sleep you are determined to torture me," he complained.

"Shhh," she nuzzled against his neck. "Just let me...wake up."

Sif stretched and rolled her body against him. With one of his legs trapped between hers, she rocked against it gently, a soft sigh leaving her.

In a slow rhythm she thrust against him, head still tucked away from the waking world. Loki felt himself grow harder and resisted the urge to groan. He always wanted her, but there was something about her using him to wake up that made his heart pound. He was content to lie back and let her lead.

Lethargically, she continued to rock in languid thrusts and rolls. His hands roamed her back, slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin. He felt himself grow hot with a hard roll of her hips. Breathy sighs escaped her as she rubbed her mound along him in long strokes, seeking the delicious pressure against her clit. Drowsy roll after sleepy thrust.

Without his direct bidding, Loki's hips twitched and bucked up, seeking friction. Sif's strong thighs wrapped tighter around his leg as he rocked against her again. She circled her hips lazily, whining softly each time Loki's hips pushed up to meet hers. His own breath left him in strangled groans, both enjoying the tease and wanting more.

Softy, her lips pressed to his throat, against his pulse and he suddenly felt a terrible tender ache in his chest. He loved her desperately. Often despite himself. It suddenly felt too much to bear, wrapped together in _their_ bed, in _their_ home.

She was so strong and sure, she would be mortified to hear it from his lips everything fragile and delicate he felt for her. Perhaps he was still in the honeymoon phase, overcome and caught up with everything romance and excitement.

Still she moved over him, face now hovering above his. The dark man mapped with his eyes the shape of her face, eyes fluttering in half-sleep and brows knit as she rocked a steady, seeking rhythm. With a thumb he traced the bottom swell of her softly parted lips and the strong line of her jaw. His hand moved to push into her hair and he pulled her mouth down to his. He felt the words in his throat, sweetening his tongue. He pushed them into her mouth in whispers and sighs. All that he felt for her, every tender thing.

One of his long hands slid down her back to her rear, pressing her tighter, tighter. Sif threw her leg over his, moving to straddle him and aligning their hips. She rocked down hard, a keening noise leaving her as she dragged her clit against his hard length. Loki was breathless, feeling her warmth through the fabric of her old flannel shorts and his own sleep pants. Feeling the fabric drag cruelly. She drew closer grinding against him, her sleepy rhythm growing more erratic.

He felt his erection twitch with want as it brushed her clit, making her hips jerk and thrust him down into their mattress. They rolled together, kissing and rocking and grinding. He felt warm, with her body pressed flush against him and traced the beads of sweat forming under her hairline where his fingers were curled. The soft, almost desperately breathy moans she sighed against his lips nearly pushed him over the edge.

More determinedly she thrust against him as he cradled her face with his free hand, the other pulling on her hip. Her own hands wrapped around the nape of his neck. She pushed against him hard until her back arched sharply, pressing the small swell of her breasts tighter against his chest and a long, low moan left her. Seeing her face flushed with lazy pleasure pushed Loki closer to his own release. He thrust his hips up, sliding against her hard. Eyes half-lidded and dark, she looked down on him as she rode out her climax, whispering his name. Harsh groans ripped from his throat as he spilled into his sleep pants. Sif leaned down to kiss him as he rocked and twitched and then tucked her face to his neck again.

Despite everything, Loki liked this. These soft moments. He held her still where she had collapsed on top of him, his pulse settling and feeling her breathing becoming slower and deeper. He could get used to waking up like this.

"Can you call it a good morning now?" his smirk was a little too self-satisfied.

Sif's answer was a soft snore against his shoulder.

"Did you really just-? Sif!"

"Hmm?"

Loki made to push her off of him, to look at her face and her heavy lids falling shut. She flung her leg higher over his hip and curled one hand tighter in the thin fabric of his shirt, resisting the push of his hand and pulling herself tighter to him.

"Just a few more minutes," she murmured into his skin, sending goosebumps blooming across his throat again. He sighed dramatically, but wrapped his arms around her, adjusting their position slightly and resting back against their pillows.

Later, they had plans. A Sunday routine. Later he would make them breakfast and then she'd lay her feet in his lap, her fingers wrapped around a cup of tea while he read the paper with a mug of strong black coffee. But for now.

For now, just this.


End file.
